


The Boy Next Door.

by MCRmyKilljoySoldier



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape (Not Between The Main Couple), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Character Death, One Shot, Schizophrenia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCRmyKilljoySoldier/pseuds/MCRmyKilljoySoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the boy next door enrolls in Frank's school, Frank doesn't realize that his whole life is about to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boy Next Door.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



When the kid next door decided to move to my school, I didn't really mind.  
  
I mean, hell, I've  _lived_  next to that kid for  _years_  but I've never even seen his face up close.  
  
All I know is that he accidentally killed his own brother when he was three and he has been shunned by everyone.  
  
And almost everyone knows about it.  
  
If you haven't heard of it, someone will tell you.  
  
It's a very small town.  
  
The ordeal was on the news, in the papers, in the snippets of hurried Monday Morning Gossip.  
  
It was  _everywhere_.  
  
Now, you might think that kid's messed up, but I don't think so.  
  
What happened was Little Mikey was in his crib when the older brother decided to hold him when the parents were sleeping.  
  
The three year old held the two day old baby in his arms, panicked and accidentally dropped the poor baby, resulting in instant death.  
  
And if the baby hadn't died, it would've had serious brain damage.  
  
So, when the parents woke up, they immediately started punishing the three year old.  
  
I've heard other stories, about how the kid's actually messed up with serious mental issues because of that.  
  
And that his parents abuse him daily which caused serious mental problems.  
  
But I seriously doubt that.  
  
They also say that he's as old as me.  
  
And they also say that his name is Gerard.  
  
Gerard Way.  
  
\---  
  
When I walked to school, I immediately saw my group of friends and sought after them.  
  
I'm pretty popular at school. I  _am_ Andrew Blake's best friend and right hand man.  
  
And if you didn't know who that is, well, I'll tell you.  
  
He's the most popular guy in school.  
  
And when I say popular, I mean  _popular_.  
  
He's a fucking celebrity!  
  
So, naturally, I'm well-known amongst our vast student population.  
  
I brought two fingers to my lips and whistled, grabbing their attention.  
  
Andrew turned around and smiled with all his pearly whites.  
  
"Frank, man, did you see the new kid? Freaking Schizo or something; he, started blubbering in English about his brother."  
  
I laughed, "No, I haven't!"  
  
"Nutcase, that kid is, he's a sixteen year old with a six year old mind, seriously dude, he should've stayed at home." Jay chuckled.  
  
Jay was another guy in our group.  
  
He's intimidating as fuck.  
  
I pursed my lips slightly but continued to laugh with my friends.  
  
"Look, there he is!" Hannah yelled. Hannah is Andrew's girlfriend, but she's a total bitch to everyone.  
  
But she's got Andrew wrapped around her little finger.  
  
I turned around and saw him.  
  
Gerard.  
  
The boy next door.  
  
My eyes widened as I saw his disheveled appearance.  
  
This is why he never left his room.  
  
He had ink black hair that covered his face like a curtain. His eyes were framed with black bags, so intense, they looked like  _charcoal stains_. Bruises or maybe hickeys (definitely bruises, no offense to him) littered his neck and crept underneath his shirt, staining the pale skin.  
  
He was incredibly thin and he wasn't that tall.  
  
Taller than me, yeah, but not  _that_  tall.  
  
Well, everybody's taller than me, I'm like what? Four feet nine inches?  
  
He was whispering to someone, even though no one was there and his hands shook vigorously.  
  
Turns out, that maybe, he could be crazy.  
  
But I could be wrong.  
  
\---  
  
I walked into the Art room with my head high.  
  
After all, I  _am_  the best artist in the class.  
  
"Frank! Can you do me a favor?" The Art teacher, Ms. Haines asked. She fiddled with her black hair anxiously as she awaited my answer.  
  
I nodded with a polite smile, "Yeah, sure."  
  
"Well, we have a new student, can you be a dear and show him around?" Ms. Haines asked.  
  
I shrugged, "Sure."  
  
She grinned and pointed them out.  
  
It was Gerard.  
  
I bit my lip and nodded then walked to the 'schizophrenic' boy.  
  
I smiled at him kindly, trying to warm up to him, "Hi, I'm Frank."  
  
He looked at me with his scared hazel eyes. His eyes were a pool of gold, green and brown, swirling together in a pond of colors.  
  
He brushed his ebony hair away a bit with his torn, spidery fingers.  
  
Self-harmer?  
  
Maybe.  
  
He nodded, his lips quivering.  
  
"Y-y-you're m-my..." He trailed off.  
  
"I'm your neighbor."  
  
He nodded quickly and started to rip at his fingers painfully.  
  
I watched as layer after layer of thin strips of skin were peeled off.  
  
"M-M-Mikey s-says h-hello." He stuttered and pointed at the empty chair next to him.  
  
 _Empty_  chair.  
  
I felt my eyes widen but I ignored it.  
  
"Hey, Mikey." I smiled.  
  
He did something with his lips that looked kind of like a smile.  
  
I smiled back and sat down.  
  
"Do you know how to draw?" I asked politely.  
  
He nodded and took out his sketchbook and opened up a page.  
  
It had a little boy in the picture, no older than three. He was smiling with his teeth and his light eyes were twinkling. His dark brown hair (I presume, it was drawn and shaded in pencil) was tucked into a grey beanie while his glasses were at the tip of his nose.  
  
"Who's that?" I asked quietly.  
  
"I-It's Mikey." He said and looked at the empty chair.  
  
Mikey's a three year old hallucination.  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at the small boy in the drawing.  
  
"Is he related to you?"  
  
"H-He's m-m-m-my b-brother and f-f... Friend." He tried to say.  
  
I smiled and said, "He's adorable."  
  
He nodded.  
  
I knew that Mikey wasn't real.  
  
It's Gerard's  _dead_ brother.  
  
But he was a hallucination.  
  
But the poor kid didn't really know any better.  
  
I went to pat his hand but he quickly flinched and pulled away.  
  
"Sorry." I mumbled but he shook his head.  
  
I simply smiled at him.  
  
\---  
  
A week had passed since I've talked to Gerard.  
  
He doesn't talk, I've discovered, he only talks to Mikey.  
  
Whenever he sees me, his hands would shake and he'd walk away quickly.  
  
I don't know why.  
  
My friends, I've also discovered, have been rather mean to Gerard.  
  
This then made Gerard start to skip classes.  
  
Then that made me worried.  
  
I don't know why I was so worked up over Gerard.  
  
Maybe I was a good person?  
  
Maybe.  
  
\---  
  
The first time I saw Gerard in weeks was today.  
  
I was sketching a skull with skin hanging off of it when a frail body sat next to me.  
  
"H-Hi." Gerard said and picked at his already mutilated hands.  
  
"Hey, why weren't you at school?"  
  
"Sick." He simply said and then coughed.  
  
He wasn't lying.  
  
"Do you want to hang out after school?" I asked him, trying to be friendly.  
  
He picked at his hands even more and looked at the empty chair next to him.  
  
"Do y-you want to go o-out?" He asked 'Mikey'. I realized his stutter wasn't as bad.  
  
"Mikey... M-Momma and Papa will get mad."  
  
He frowned, "Fine."  
  
"W-w-we'll come."  
  
I smiled and continued to sketch, my hand acting on its own.  
  
I heard Gerard cough again and looked at him with concern. He just shook his head and continued to sketch.  
  
\---  
  
I waited by the bike rack, my back resting against the wall of the school. I told Andrew I had a tutor session with one of the nerds and he let me be.  
  
I didn't want my reputation to crumble.  
  
Pulling out a cigarette, my hand found the blue lighter and ignited, lighting the ciggy. Taking a drag out of the cancer stick, the smoke rushed hot and addicting into my system and then left my mouth in wisps. I knew it was a dirty habit that I needed to stop. I've tried to quit, I really have but I just  _couldn't_.  
  
It's like Gerard and his hands. He had very beautiful hands, pale and spidery, thin and artistic but he ruins them by ripping at them but he can't  _stop_.  
  
"Hi." A soft, timid voice said. I turned around and saw Gerard, looking broken as ever.  
  
His right hand was curled in mid-air. It looked like it was holding something.  
  
A hand, I presume. Mikey's hand.  
  
"W-Where are w-we going?" Gerard asked me timidly.  
  
"To my house, my parents would love to meet you."  
  
He swallowed and nodded then looked at 'Mikey'.  
  
"A-Are you r-ready, Mikey...?"  
  
I think 'Mikey' was ready because he walked closer to me and nodded.  
  
I sent a soft smile his way and then led the way to my house.  
  
It wasn't awkward but the silence wasn't exactly comfortable.  
  
Talking was a major thing I took part in. I'm an  _extrovert_.  
  
Gerard's an  _introvert_.  
  
We were exact opposites in that department.  
  
Well, in others, too.  
  
For example:  
  
I'm short, he's tall.  
  
I'm average weight, he's underweight.  
  
I'm loud, he's quiet.  
  
I have lots of friends, he only has two, and one of them is a figment of his imagination.  
  
My hands shook as I craved another cancer stick.  
  
I took one out of the package and grimaced at the picture that was printed on the box.  
  
They were gruesome.  
  
I searched for my blue lighter, found it then lit the fag and smirked.  
  
Sweet nicotine at last...  
  
I brought the white stick to my lips and inhaled, feeling the smoke travel in my system and then breathed it out, trying to make art with the smoke.  
  
When I turned to Gerard, I saw him staring at the cigarette with curiosity.  
  
"Can I?"  
  
"Sure." I shrugged and handed him the ciggy.  
  
Normally, I almost  _never_  share.  
  
But I made an exception.  
  
He hesitantly took the cigarette and inhaled and coughed slightly.  
  
"Don't rush it." I smiled.  
  
He nodded and then inhaled it slowly.  
  
He did the thing with his lips that looked more like a twitch than a smile.  
  
"Here-"  
  
"We'll share."  
  
He blushed and obliged.  
  
And we walked the rest of the way home like that, sharing a cigarette.  
  
\---  
  
When we arrived, I knocked on the door and then heard my dog bark.  
  
"Down, boy, what's gotten into you? Damn, Frankie and his love for animals!" I heard my father laugh from inside the house.  
  
"Dad, just because you're cold-hearted, that doesn't mean  _I_  am!" I yelled from outside.  
  
He yanked the door open and threw Dee-Dee at me, our fat, grey, bulldog.  
  
"Here, you lousy kids," He chuckled, "Now, hello, there, young man, are you the boy from next door?" Dad asked kindly.  
  
I got my kind nature from my parents.  
  
They were liked in our community. The whole town loved my family, which felt really good.  
  
"Yeah, Dad, this is Gerard, he's a good friend of mine."  
  
"Well, any friend of Frankie's is a good friend of mine, Gerard! Come in, come in, would you like some coffee?" Dad asked nicely.  
  
Gerard did the twitch he does with his lips and nodded.  
  
He looked at his right and shook his head. He looked down and then sighed.  
  
Dad just smiled awkwardly and went to make our coffees.  
  
I led Gerard to the living room and we sat down on the plush couch. I stood up to talk to my dad but turned to Gerard.  
  
"Wait here-"  
  
"D-don't leave me here a-alone." He interrupted me, his lips shaking.  
  
"What-"  
  
"Please." He whispered.  
  
I pursed my lips but obliged and sat down next to him.  
  
I realized that he liked to keep his distance. He  _never_  touched anyone, whether it was accidental or on purpose. He always wore his black fingerless gloves now because it was the start of winter.  
  
He did the lip twitch and bit at his lips furiously.  
  
"So, what do you think of my dad?" I asked while grinning.  
  
"He's nice." He mumbled.  
  
"How about your dad? How's he?" I asked stupidly.  
  
His eyes widened and he shook his head furiously.  
  
"Okay." I muttered then took out a mint from my pocket and sucked on it.  
  
"Want one?" I asked politely.  
  
He nodded slowly and then held out his hand to take one.  
  
And I saw it.  
  
His sleeve slid up and I realized that he forgot his gloves.  
  
His beautiful hands...  
  
Scars littered his arms, the pale skin streaked with angry, vicious lines. Some of them were healing, some of them healed but others were fresh.  
  
His arm was bruised, too. The alabaster skin was stained with purple, blue, green and black.  
  
The tearing at his hands was extreme and more evident.  
  
I almost cried out in shock, staring at his arm.  
  
How can someone not notice that this has happened?  
  
"Gerard-"  
  
"I'm s-sorry." He gasped and yanked his sleeve down and buried his face in his hands.  
  
"Gerard-"  
  
"I'm sorry! I-I'm s-so s-s-sorry! I d-didn't mean to!" He cried and shielded himself and then turned away from me.  
  
He thinks I'm going to... hit him?  
  
I wanted to pat him on the back but that'll make everything much worse.  
  
"Gerard... I'm not going to hit you." I mumbled softly.  
  
He turned to me slowly, his eyes wide with fear. His arms were still wrapped around his body tightly.  
  
"Y-You're not?" He whispered.  
  
I shook my head, trying to calm him down.  
  
"Come on, I bet Mikey's worried." I said.  
  
He looked at his right and gasped.  
  
"No, Mikey, don't cry, I'm sorry." He cried.  
  
He wrapped his arms around something.  
  
 _But that something isn't real_.  
  
And at that moment, I  _knew_  Gerard Way was broken.  
  
And it was my duty to fix him.  
  
I saw Mom from the stairs, looking at the scene with wide eyes.  
  
"Frankie." She mouthed. I saw tears start to form in her eyes.  
  
She felt sorry for Gerard.  
  
She only saw him for five seconds, but she's already crying for him.  
  
Gerard started to sob even more, crying, mumbling, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."  
  
I wanted to hug him, to comfort him.  
  
But I couldn't touch him.  
  
Something  _terrible_  must have happened to him to cause all of this.  
  
I turned around and saw Dad, his eyes wide, saying nothing. His eyes were filled with sorrow.  
  
Sorrow for the poor boy crying on the couch.  
  
His sobs subsided, making him adorably hiccup.  
  
He stared at his mutilated hands and whispered, "Mikey's angry."  
  
"Why is he angry with you-"  
  
"He's not a-angry with me. He's angry at Mother and Father." He continued.  
  
I heard a hitched gasp for air and realized it was my mom, trying not to cry.  
  
"W-Why is he angry with them?" Mom asked quietly, her voice cracking.  
  
"Because they h-hurt m-me."  
  
He curled up on the couch and hugged his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth.  
  
Mom walked up to him and sat on her knees.  
  
"What do you mean by hurt you?"  
  
And he told us everything.  
  
And the tears we've shed can form a river.  
  
And surprisingly, he didn't stutter while explaining.  
  
"They lock me up in a room. They covered up the windows with bricks. It's so dark... I can't see. I'm scared of the dark, so scared. They don't let me out for days. They don't give me food or water. I starve in there. They call me a disgrace and obese. They only let me out for school, and that only started two months ago. I hate tight spaces because of that room. It's dark, Miss, and small, I can't breathe. I feel like I'm choking. I feel the hands gripping my throat, squeezing. I'm always alone in the dark.  
  
"They hit me and cut me. They burn my skin and say that I'm not going to heaven because I'm a murderer. One day, Father came back home drunk, Miss. Father threw me on the ground and started to throw things at me and then called up his friends. They did things to me... I thought they only happened to girls. My mom watched and laughed, I can still feel them touching me. I can feel their hands everywhere. I'm so dirty. I feel so dirty. I don't know how anyone can feel this dirty." He burst into violent sobs that shook his whole body.  
  
My heart started to hurt and the tears pricked my eyes.  
  
"S-so I started to cut. It feels like I'm in control, causing my own pain. I feel numb all the time. Mikey's the only one who stood by my side. He's been my friend since it first happened."  
  
"A-And who's M-Mikey?" Mom asked through her tears.  
  
"M-Mikey's my brother and best friend."  
  
I could tell Mom's heart broke.  
  
His brother  _died_.  
  
She didn't tell him the truth; she just nodded and then wiped away her tears.  
  
"Well, you're not going back to that wretched house."  
  
"What?"  
  
"What do you say about being a member of this house?"  
  
His eyes widened.  
  
"What do you say about calling this place  _home_?"  
  
I gasped and smiled at my mom, "Really, mom?"  
  
"I-I don't want to intrude."  
  
"You're not. You know what? We'll file a case report with the police about the issue, until then, you go get some rest in Frankie's room, Geebear." She smiled her motherly side showing.  
  
His lips twitched and he shakily stood up and then did the unexpected.  
  
He hugged her.  
  
Maybe because she was nice to him.  
  
And maybe because she was a woman.  
  
And the people that hurt him were mostly men.  
  
She hugged back with a soft smile on her lips.  
  
"Thank you." I heard him whisper.  
  
He let go and then turned to me and I understood.  
  
He wanted me to show him where my room is.  
  
I escorted him to my room and he looked at it, analyzing it.  
  
"I'll leave-"  
  
He turned around and shook his head, "Don't leave m-me by myself."  
  
I nodded and then walked with him to the bed.  
  
"You sleep on the bed."  
  
He looked uncertain but I assured him that it was okay.  
  
He lay down and then curled up in the fluffy blankets.  
  
"Can y-you stay here u-until I fall asleep?" He asked cautiously.  
  
I smiled and nodded, "Sure."  
  
So, I stayed with him until he fell asleep.  
  
And sitting there, watching him sleep, I realized that I was on the way of fixing him.  
  
Gerard won't have to suffer anymore.  
  
\---  
  
It's been a whole month.  
  
One full month.  
  
One month of hanging out with Gerard, living with him, staying with him until he slept...  
  
He was warming up to us, slowly, bit by bit, but he trusted my mom the fastest.  
  
And was I jealous?  
  
Yeah.  
  
I was.  
  
I knew it was wrong and weird but, I'm starting to develop feelings for him.  
  
Whenever I saw him, something would tug at my heartstrings gently.  
  
I always knew I was different. I always knew that gender didn't matter. It doesn't matter what's on the outside, it's the inside.  
  
For example, you see a golden apple and a normal looking one.  
  
You take the golden one, but you realize it's rotten in the inside.  
  
And the normal one is amazing in the inside.  
  
So, Gerard's my 'apple', if you want.  
  
While I was thinking, I saw Gerard from the corner of my eye, sketching something in his beloved sketchbook. I didn't want to interrupt him; I just continued to strum my guitar, Pansy.  
  
"The trial's on the thirtieth." He whispered suddenly.  
  
"Are you nervous?"  
  
It took him a while to answer.  
  
"Yeah..." He whispered again.  
  
I stood up and sat down on the bed next to him.  
  
"Gee, it'll be okay."  
  
"I hope so."  
  
My lips stretched into a smile and his lips twitched.  
  
I realized that Gerard didn't smile.  
  
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pull of the smile.  
  
It was, is, and will always be a twitch.  
  
I wanted to hold his hand, to tell him it's going to be okay.  
  
He turned to me and mumbled, "Can I try something?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Close your eyes."  
  
And I did.  
  
Now, I expected him to lean in and kiss me.  
  
Like they do on Saturday Night Chick Flicks.  
  
But this is reality.  
  
He waited for a few seconds until I felt an alien touch on my hand.  
  
Gerard was touching my hand.  
  
"There are things that remind me of that night... And there are some things that don't." He explained when he saw my confused face.  
  
"You don't remind me of these people, Frankie."  
  
"What-"  
  
"You make me feel special."  
  
I opened my eyes slowly and saw Gerard looking at me with a weird expression on his face.  
  
"When I'm touching you right now, Frankie, I don't feel their hands on me."  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
"Frank, I think I love you."  
  
If my heart was a balloon, I think it popped because my chest hurt.  
  
In a good way.  
  
"Gerard, I think I love you, too."  
  
And then he smiled.  
  
He actually smiled.  
  
He stretched his lips into a small smile that made his face look ten times younger.  
  
The hand on mine traveled to my face, "Don't hurt me."  
  
"I won't." I breathed out.  
  
He nodded and then closed his eyes.  
  
I don't know what drove me to do it.  
  
I placed a hand on his cheek gently and he stopped himself from flinching.  
  
Leaning a bit closer, I heard his breathing start to get heavy.  
  
I hovered my lips above his and closed my eyes.  
  
He stayed completely still and I felt wetness start to drip on my face.  
  
He was crying.  
  
But he didn't pull away.  
  
He leaned in closer and hesitantly closed the gap between us.  
  
I didn't kiss him and he didn't kiss back.  
  
When he didn't taste  _them_  on my lips, he hesitantly placed his hand on mine.  
  
I kissed him slowly, sweetly, trying to get him to trust me.  
  
He pulled away from the kiss and looked me in the eye, tears streaming down his face.  
  
"I-I can't, Frankie."  
  
"Yeah, y-you can." I whispered back.  
  
He wiped away his tears, "I don't know."  
  
"You kiss me." I said.  
  
"What-"  
  
"Take control, kiss me."  
  
He bit his lip then nodded.  
  
He held my face delicately and then brought my lips to his then kissed me slowly.  
  
Then I kissed back.  
  
And he didn't pull away this time.  
  
He kissed me slowly and I didn't bother speeding up the kiss.  
  
I've kissed both sexes before and even though this kiss wasn't as exciting as the others, it was the best one I've had.  
  
After a minute, he pulled away and stared at me in the eyes.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
I kissed his cheek slowly and then pulled away, "What for?"  
  
"For not getting mad."  
  
"I won't ever get mad at you."  
  
He pulled me into a hug and then started to cry on my shoulder.  
  
"Why're you crying?"  
  
"I still feel dirty, Frankie. I can't feel them on my lips, but I can still feel them touching my body." He whimpered and clutched my shirt tightly.  
  
"Gee, I can't do that-"  
  
"Please, please, your parents aren't here, I need this, I need  _you_."  
  
I knew what he was asking.  
  
And then I obliged.  
  
And that was the day I did it with Gerard for the first time.  
  
We had to stop a few times because of the flashbacks he had.  
  
But at the end, I knew what comforted him and what scared him.  
  
And because of that, I don't regret it.  
  
Neither does he.  
  
\---  
  
It was the day of the trial.  
  
Gerard was literally shaking, ripping at his hands and tearing his lips.  
  
I held his hand gently and smiled, "It's going to be okay."  
  
He nodded and then hugged me tightly.  
  
My parents knew about us and they approved,  
  
They love Gerard.  
  
"B-But what if I have to go back to them? What if I have to go back to that wretched room?"  
  
"Then we'll run away together and we won't look back."  
  
He nodded and then held my hand tightly.  
  
"I don't want to be here." He mumbled.  
  
"Neither do I, but it's for the best."  
  
And then the trial began. Screams, shouts, tears and names were exchanged.  
  
But at the end, it paid off because his parents were guilty.   
  
And they were sentenced to five years in prison.   
  
And then we went home and we celebrated with a cheese cake and a kiss.   
  
Since then, Gerard has been getting better.   
  
I fixed him.   
  
He no longer sees Mikey because of the medication they put him on.  
  
He's more comfortable around me.   
  
Yet, I still know he's not completely fixed.   
  
But that's fine with me.   
  
Because, after all, he loves me.   
  
And I fell in love with the boy next door. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, so I hope you liked this one shot. 
> 
> I wrote it ages ago (like last October or something) and posted it on Wattpad and decided to share it on here. Woo.


End file.
